Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart by Hayley

Sarah pov.

The house smelled like roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread, and the faint sound of laughter filled the air.

I was setting up the dining table when the doorbell rang. My friends had promised to come over for a small lunch, and even though I had planned everything carefully, I couldn't shake the nervous flutter in my stomach. Hosting anything felt like a big deal these days-I got tired so easily. But I missed my girls, and today felt like the perfect excuse to catch up.

"Coming!" I called out, adjusting a plate before hurrying to the door.

When I opened it, Tanya stood there with a big grin and an even bigger box wrapped in shiny paper. Behind her were Nina and Claire, both carrying smaller gift bags.

"Baby shower came early!" Tanya announced, stepping inside and kissing me on the cheek.

"Oh, come on," I said, laughing. "It's just lunch. No gifts necessary."

"Yeah, well, too late," Nina chimed in, holding up a bag decorated with tiny rattles and pacifiers. "This is happening whether you like it or not."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop smiling. These girls always knew how to make me feel loved.

The meal was simple but delicious. Roasted chicken, a hearty salad, warm bread-it was nothing fancy, but everyone seemed to enjoy it.

We sat around the table, talking and laughing like no time had passed since our last get-together.

"So," Claire started, leaning forward with a teasing smile, "any weird cravings yet? Pickles and ice cream? Peanut butter on pizza?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Nothing that crazy. Mostly fruit, honestly. Although there was this one night I really wanted mustard on crackers."

"Mustard?" Tanya asked, making a face. "That's... different."

I said, grinning. "But he brought it to me anyway. That man

to their own parenting stories. Tanya, who had two toddlers, shared a hilarious tale about her three-year-old hiding her car keys in

midnight feedings. Claire, the most experienced of the group, gave practical advice with the calm authority of someone

said, pointing her fork at me, "everybody's going to have an opinion about how you should do things. But you know your baby better than

every word. It felt good to hear their stories and know I wasn't alone

left, the house felt quiet again. I stood in the dining room, looking at the pile of gifts they'd left behind. There

plates and wiping down the table. As

had changed so much about my life. Some changes were obvious-my growing belly, the constant exhaustion-but others

out all the time, meeting up with friends for coffee or shopping. But now, my energy was limited, and

distance would strain our relationships. But today reminded me

too tired to leave the house or if I spent half the conversation complaining about swollen ankles. They just wanted

sink, I realized how lucky I

video called later in

on the couch with a glass of water, Richard walked in. He had his hands behind

to?" I asked,

your eyes," he

"Why?"

"Just do it."

I heard

you can open

eyes, I saw a folded piece of paper resting on top

"What's this?"

read it," he said, sitting

reading. It was a letter, written in Richard's

Dear Baby, it began.